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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Michael Wilding is experimenting with anti-depressant drugs after his girlfriend dumps him. What he doesn't know is that these 'new' drugs from The Drug Lord Jimmy Hamilton cause him to hallucinate and become extremely violent... leading to an awful crime.

Submitted: July 16, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 16, 2008



The young man awoke with a jolt. He panted heavily, pulling himself against the cold wall behind his back. His eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils were small even in the dark room. He peered down at his fists; his knuckles were caked with dry blood. The blood was smeared also on his torn shirt that was soaked in his own cold sweat. His throat was dry and his voice cracked when he tried to call out for someone to help him out of where he was being held captive. His beady eyes darted around the small dark cell; he was confined in a claustrophobic square between four solid concrete walls. The room smelled of sweat and urine. He covered his mouth and nose with the saggy sleeve of what was once his best school shirt to avoid breathing in the scent of other men who had shared a similar fate to him.
He stumbled around the darkness trying to find his feet, he pounded his palms against the cold hard concrete, shouting until he choked and fell back to the floor with a dull thud. He ran his dirty fingers through his messy blonde hair, wondering how he had ended up in this mess. His memory was fuzzy; he couldn’t remember what happened this morning.
He couldn’t remember what he had done this morning.
He couldn’t remember anything since he started taking those pills…
“How much?” I asked, shifting my eyes from side to side in case any cops drove past.
“20 a hit.” The large man in the long black leather jacket replied flatly, his eyes doing the same as mine. As if he was expecting to get busted.
“What’s in it?” I began counting my wad of cash I had saved from my last birthday.
“LSD and a bit of other stuff, makes you trip out.” His dark eyes wouldn’t meet mine; he was always alert for the police. This was just another deal for him. But not for me, I had never bought any drugs before but since Emily dumped me I needed something to absorb the pain. After trying alcohol and ending up in hospital with a tube pumping out my stomach I decided to turn to the hard drugs. I was shit scared standing before this giant of a man, what if he just mugged me and took my money? This could all turn sour in a matter of seconds. Nevertheless I put on a brave face and tried not to let him smell my fear.
“How long does it last?” Four hundred dollars… how long would 20 hits last me?
“Each hit… about four hours.”
“Are they addictive?” I almost handed the money over but I quickly withdrew my hand.
“No.” He replied coldly and snatched the cash from my outstretched arm shoving it into the breast pocket of his black jacket.
“There’s four hundred there. That’s 20 hits.” I declared so he wouldn’t try and rip me off.
He glared at me and pulled out a plastic zip lock bag which had been spray-painted black from the inside pocket of his overcoat. I peered inside once he had unzipped the top of the bag; there were other, smaller, zip lock bags inside. He roughly thrust his hand into the bag and pulled out four little bags filled with little white tablets that looked like Tic-Tacs that he pressed into my palm. I jammed them into the pocket of my jeans and darted my eyes from side to side again. The large man nodded his head once and stalked off into the shadows of an alleyway with his hands in his jacket pockets – like he was never here.
Jimmy had been making his own drugs ever since he had discovered the benefits of mixing, matching and marketing. Moneymaking.
After some intense research on the Internet Jimmy had come to the conclusion that his customers needed something new, he would tell them it wasn’t addictive and had better trips that normal LSD. That’s what all the druggies wanted these days, trips that lasted longer, were more fun… that they couldn’t remember.
Combining original LSD and liquid heroin was a risky experiment but Jimmy concocted the solution and tested it out on his teenage nephew who loved the stuff and couldn’t get enough of it. His nephew’s one evaluation was enough to start marketing his original drug. Jimmy called them “Hallucinogenic tablets”, “Hell” for short. “Hell” became Jimmy’s popular drug’s street name – yet to be discovered by the forensics as a dangerous drug causing side effects of extreme hallucinations and violent behaviour.
The first time I popped Hell I was alone in my bedroom. I had hollowed out the sole of one of my old tennis shoes and hidden the tablets in there so my parents wouldn’t find them. I was feeling extra-depressed one day after school after seeing Emily with some other guy on the rugby team, a player – everyone knew what he was like. But Emily was joking and laughing with him to the point where I couldn’t take watching them anymore and ran and hid like a wuss in a bathroom.
When I was safely home a few hours later I rushed up the stairs into my bedroom, lunged at my closet and dug the drugs out from my tennis shoe’s insides. I ripped open the zip lock bag and ended up spilling all five tablets onto my floor. I crawled on my hands and knees shoving the first one I found into my mouth, swallowing it dry – like a druggie. I picked up the rest of the white cylinder-shaped pellets and sat against my bed with my eyes closed waiting for the Hell to kick into my system.
I couldn’t tell really when my trip started but when I opened my eyes again I was no longer on the floor by my bed, I was floating above myself, I looked down at my arms and found they were covered in feathers, soft and brown. I had wings! I started to laugh and fly around my bedroom making “whoosh” noises, giggling louder and louder with each circuit around the room.
“MICHAEL!” It was my mum; she was really pissed off for some reason. Her lips curled into an angry snarl.
“What do you want?” I landed on my bed and wrapped my wings around myself.
“You’re making so much noise up here. SHUT UP! I’m trying to relax downstairs.”
“Jeez! Take a chill pill!” I laughed at my own joke and let my head loll back with my mouth wide open in a goofy grin.
“Just be quiet or there’ll be trouble!” My mother slammed the door hard and I felt a mini earthquake in my bedroom.
“Psycho…” I muttered and took to the air again.
Mrs Wilding stood downstairs folding the washing from the basket talking to her husband who was lazing on the couch watching golf.
“Michael went a bit crazy before did he?” Mr Wilding asked his wife without taking his eyes off the swing and drive.
“Did you hear him from down here?”
“Yeah, what did he say? Should I go and have a chat to him?”
“I just went up to tell him dinner will be ready at 6 and he started swearing and cursing at me to get out and give him some privacy. I thought he was going to hit me.”
“I’ll go and have a word with him.” Mr Wilding stiffened and stood up, he took one step towards the stairs and Mrs Wilding called him back.
“Just leave him,” she said quietly, “He wouldn’t restrain himself from hitting you.”
“Is he on drugs?” Mr Wilding’s paternal instincts kicked in.
“I can’t imagine… I don’t think he is. I go through his room once a week and I haven’t found or smelt anything suspicious.” Mrs Wilding replied making a mental note to herself: Check Michael’s room for drugs AGAIN.
I woke the next morning after my first hit to a thumping headache; I stumbled into the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet for an aspirin. I swallowed it with a cup of water to moisten my throat.
“Mike…” I jumped at my father’s voice behind me.
“Shit Dad, you scared me. What is it?” I turned to face him.
“I just want a straight answer. Are you on drugs?” His eyes were stern and his voice strong. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m not on drugs Dad. Why would you even ask me that?” I wasn’t lying. Strictly speaking I wasn’t on drugs… I’d only had one dose of Hell.
“Your mother said you swore at her last night when she went up to your room. Would you like to explain this to me…?”
“…Not really…” I didn’t remember swearing at my mum, if my memory’s correct she was the one going bonkers at me. “She was yelling at me…”
“Don’t lie to me Michael James Wilding. It’s your word against hers, and I’m always on your mother’s side.”
“I’m not on drugs Dad.” I tried to smile but his expression killed my dimples. My father just threw his hands in the air and left me in the bathroom to drink the rest of my water.
I packed up my backpack for school and tucked a Hell tablet into a stitch that had loosened and thus created a secret compartment. I tucked my shirt into my pants and proceeded to walk to school through the park; on the way I caught sight of Emily and the rugby jock making out near the park toilets, she opened her eyes mid-kiss and latched onto me across the park. She sucked the big jerk’s face even harder, trying to make me jealous the stupid slutty bitch. I gave her the finger and angrily stormed off to school. I heard her starting to moan, her eyes watching me while she was being pleasured in the park by some prick that would ditch her for a better catch any second. I threw down my backpack and searched frantically for my tablet tucked into the inner lining of my bag.
I found it and, sighing with relief, let its effects run havoc on my brain and body. It kicked in almost straight away, but I couldn’t fly, I didn’t have wings.
“Hey what do you think you’re doing checking my girl?” the jock guy had stopped sucking Emily’s neck and was taking menacing steps towards me.
“He wants me back Jess, isn’t it obvious?” Emily sneered. They were both mocking me.
“You want a piece of me, you little bitch?” Jesse threatened me with his cocked fists.
“She’s trying to make me jealous…” I was cut off when I received a hard blow to my nose from his muscular fist. I clapped a hand to my face and doubled over, bleeding into my hand. I couldn’t feel my nose. I didn’t want to seem weak so I stood back up straight abruptly and landed a right hook into Jesse’s jaw, he fell back onto the ground. I leapt on top of him and pound his face into the grass.
“Get off him you bastard!” Emily had launched herself at my back and was viciously scratching at my face and neck with her long nails. I elbowed her twice, once hard in the stomach to loosen her grip around my neck and then again in the face to keep her off while I showed Jesse what I was made of. Jesse tried desperately to fight me off but I was too strong for him to take me, I punched him until he stopped ripping the bottom of my shirt and his blood was all over my knuckles. Then I turned to Emily, she leapt on top of me knocking me to the ground beside Jesse’s unconscious body.
“Michael, stop it! I hate you! I never loved you! Get over it, no one likes you, you thought I did but I hate you. I always have.” Emily told me this while sitting on my stomach and holding my fists down into the grass.
“BITCH!” I wrestled one of my fists free and connected with her ugly bitchy slutty whorey face. It was already caked with blood from her nose and mouth and now there’d be blood from her eyes too. I hated her. I hated Emily.
She was a liar.
A dirty slutty liar.
She loved me. I was the one who never loved her.
I stood up and gave one more blow to Emily’s temple causing her to crash to the ground beside Jesse. I spat on both of their bodies, picked up my bag and walked the rest of the distance to school.
“Michael? These men would like a word with you please.” My mother called from downstairs. I was in my room in my bloodstained clothes wondering what happened that I got them so messed up. I poked my head downstairs and saw two policemen in uniform sitting on my couch; they stood when they saw me come down.
“Sit down Mike.” My father ordered and nodded his head angrily. I was grateful I had put on a jacket before going downstairs to hide the blood on my white school shirt. I had down and tried to be as calm as possible. I was trying to link my bloodstained clothes to the policeman and my father’s angriness.
“We’re from the Christchurch police Michael do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” One of the cops asked me slowly making sure I took in everything he said.
“Sure. What’s this about?”
“It’s regarding the murder of two young people in the park earlier today.” The policeman said grimly, my heart skipped a beat. Did I escape from the attacker? Did he try and kill me but I got away?
“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“We were hoping you could tell us. A young man was bludgeoned to death and his girlfriend used her last breath to say your name. You’re Michael Wilding?”
I nodded, not wanting to believe two people had died in the park I walked through everyday and I was there to watch it.
“I don’t know who did it. Who were the people who died?”
“They were two students from your school actually,” the police officer checked a clipboard, which lay in his lap, “Jesse McCutcheon and Emily Fairbanks.”
“Emily Fairbanks! NO!” I burst into tears and held my head in my hands.
“You know her?” The policeman asked and placed a hand on my shoulder, “I’m terribly sorry, if she been found an hour earlier she’d have lived.”
“She was my ex girlfriend. I think her and Jesse were together if that’s any help to finding the sicko that killed her.”
The two police officers exchanged an awkward glance between each other.
“We think we know who the murderer was…” the other policeman said from across the room, he was standing next to my father.
“Michael, would you remove your jacket please?” the first police officer said, I obeyed and removed it reluctantly. My parents clasped their hands over their mouths when they saw the large masses of blood smeared on my shirt. The police officers advanced towards me so I stood. One grabbed my arms behind me and the other clicked the handcuffs on.
“Michael Wilding you are under arrest for the double murder of Jesse McCutcheon and Emily Fairbanks.” The policemen led me out to the trooper parked on the street, one opened the back door and the other ducked my head and pushed me inside.
I sat in the back seat looking from the seat, to my parents, to my shirt, to the black grate in between the officers and me and back to the seat again. My mother and father stood on the footpath by the house, my father’s arms around my mother. My mother was crying and all the neighbours were rushing to catch a glimpse of all the action.
I ducked my head so no one could see my face, so no one could see my tears.
And tried desperately to remember what had happened.
“What we assume has happened is that Mister Wilding has taken hallucinogenic drugs of some kind which resulted in him committing double homicide.”
“You’re saying this kid was tripping out, so he killed two of his friends?”
“What I’m saying is that Mister Wilding had no knowledge of his actions and should be declared innocent by reason of insanity at the time of the murder.”
“Drugs do not make a person insane Mister Franklin. The least Michael Wilding can get off with is manslaughter.”
“These are no ordinary drugs Mister Page, we obtained samples of the drugs Mister Wilding had been taking and they seem to be a newly concocted solution consisting of concentrated LSD and heroin. The side effects of this particular drug are ‘tripping out’, memory loss and violent behaviour.”
“Do you have lab tests to prove your statement Mister Franklin?”
“Yes I do Your Honour. The drugs were tested, results have been given and Mister Wilding has stated they are the drugs he has been taking.”
The whole court case passed in a blur, I couldn’t believe what was happening to me.
What happened to Emily. Did I really do what they say I did?
“Mister Wilding can you confirm that you took these hallucinogenic drugs on the day of the double homicide?”
“No sir, I don’t remember anything that happened that day, the closest I can remember is waking up in those bloody clothes,” I pointed to the evidence table, “in some cell that I was put in.”
“Did you ever purchase hallucinogenic drugs on the black market?” He asked all the time knowing the answer, “Remember you are under an oath.” He added when I didn’t answer right away as expected.
“Yes I did.”
“From whom?”
“From this dealer I heard about through people who knew other people, his name’s Jimmy. Jimmy Hamilton he says, don’t know if it’s his real name.” I stated.
“Jimmy Hamilton. Famous for creating his own drugs isn’t he? What did he say was in the drugs when you purchased them?”
“I don’t know if he’s famous sir, but when I asked him he said LSD and a bit of other stuff, he said it would make me trip out for four hours.”
“Did you have any prior knowledge about the drugs you were purchasing?”
“No sir, I asked him if he had anything that’d take my mind off my problems for a while, he said this stuff was new but it wasn’t addictive. So I bought 20.”
“He told you they weren’t addictive drugs?”
“I asked him specifically if they were and he said no, then he took my money, gave me the tablets and left.”
“How many of the 20 tablets did you consume?”
“I only took two sir, one the night before the murder and then I think I took one the next morning before school.”
“So would it be fair to say that you were under the influence of these hallucinogenic drugs, which you purchased from Jimmy Hamilton, during the murder of Mr McCutcheon and Miss Fairbanks?”
“Yes sir, I can’t say for sure, but I think that’s the way it happened. I only had 18 left when you got them for evidence, so I must’ve taken two. I can only remember one so that leaves only a few hours for me to take the other one.”
“Very well put Mister Wilding. Do you think it is fair for you to be punished for this crime even though you don’t remember committing it?”
“Objection your Honour! He can’t ask such a question!”
“Denied, answer the question Mister Wilding.”
“I don’t think I should be… but since I killed two people, I broke the law and now I have to face the consequences. I’m really not a dangerous person but I think the judge and jury know what to do with me so I’ll leave it up to them.” I stammered, Mister Franklin’s eyes twinkled at my response.
“Thank you Mister Wilding. You may step down.”
“The jury will leave the room now and when they return they will have a verdict of whether the defendant is guilty or not guilty.”
My hands shook as I took my seat at the defendant’s table with my lawyer Mister Franklin. He shook my hand and said I’d done very well. He said he was confident about the verdict going in our favour.
The judge and jury took their seats again in the courtroom. The judge asked the jury for their verdict. I bit my lip. What was going to happen to me?
The representative from the jury stood tall and held a piece of paper in her hands.
“How do you find the defendant?”
“We find the defendant, Mister Michael Wilding, not guilty by reason of insanity.”
“Mister Michael Wilding I sentence you to six months in a psychiatric rehabilitation centre for a check up and regular therapy. Once therapy is complete you will reside in your parents’ home with a social worker present at all times you are alone for an additional three months until you can be declared safely sane.” The judge banged down her mallet and there were murmurs among the crowd. My father wouldn’t come near me but my mother came and hugged me tightly saying how glad she was it was almost all over.
“Congratulations.” Mister Franklin shook my hand tightly and patted my shoulder.
“Thank you.” I was too shocked to say anything more.
Despite the fact Emily was dead and it was all my fault, I really had learned something from all this – never use drugs. They’re dangerous and they can kill people.
Maybe not yourself but other people around you.
It took one measly little pill the size of a Tic-Tac to make me kill two innocent people.
Jimmy Hamilton still hasn’t been caught for being the supplier of dangerous and (now) illegal substances. He should be locked up forever so other teenagers can’t fall into the same trap where they make themselves believe they need these drugs to stay sane.
So it turns out after a few therapy sessions your memory does start to come back even after using drugs that cause memory loss. The drugs I used made me see the evil in everybody, even when they were saying normal, even nice, things to me. I thought they were being abusive and I was the victim but it was the other way around.
I landed the first punch on Jesse, he only hit me to try and keep me away, to stop me from hurting Emily, but I fought back. Jesse wasn’t violent; he was only trying to protect his girlfriend. I was watching them making out and he saw me and asked if I needed help.
I thought he was picking a fight with me so I charged over and smacked him square in the jaw. I wish I could take it all back. To not take that dose of Hell. To not beat up and kill my ex girlfriend and her new lover. I wish I’d never spent four hundred dollars on stupid pills that ruined so many people’s lives as a result.
Turns out taking Hell, put me in Hell.

© Copyright 2018 AJ Benjamin. All rights reserved.

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